


Guilt and Pleasure

by andiemerizein



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Religious Guilt, Virginity, misuse of oranges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andiemerizein/pseuds/andiemerizein
Summary: Credence wants Graves to teach him first-hand about the pleasurable acts two men can share, but Graves feels that Credence should understand what their options are, in explicit detail, before they try anything.Or, The One Where Graves Talks Dirty to Credence and Credence Gets Very Uncomfortable and Even More Turned On.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I've started innumerable fics over the last like 15 years but who knew I'd ever actually finish one. 
> 
> My undying gratitude to my cheerleader, gd_cmplx, who prodded me through this fic's initial conception and made me laugh with her encouragement and snarky comments, and my betas [ writingramblr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr) and [brevityis](http://archiveofourown/users/brevityis), who have been wonderful and encouraging and have offered really thorough and helpful feedback on content and technical stuff.
> 
> I just quick looked at when I started the Google doc and it was January 19th. Holy fuck this was WAY too much effort for 3600 words. Never again.
> 
> Now featuring verb tense agreement!

 

It’s sunny, but cold and windy when Credence meets Mr. Graves in the alleyway the week his foster mother is ill. If Mr. Graves was free this afternoon, as he had been last Saturday, he might be able to steal a few hours with the man. Though Graves shows up to their meetings without fail, Credence still holds his breath until he spots the man. The feeling of relief the boy only ever feels when he sees his savior floods him as he sees the black and white coat appear and its occupant rush up to him, saying “Credence, you’re freezing. Here, this will keep you warm,” as he takes off a luxurious-looking scarf and places it around Credence’s neck.

“Mr. Graves, Ma is ill today. She won’t know if I’m not home by dinnertime. Do you… er… I know last week you asked if we could…”

“I’d love to spend some time with you. We could go to my house, warm you up by the fire. In fact, I’ve got something special there you might like. Or if you prefer, there’s a cafe down the road, I could take you there.”

“Warming up by the fire sounds nice,” Credence says, secretly looking forward to having some privacy with this man for the first time.

 

Graves warns Credence before apparating them both to his northside brownstone. He’d done this with Credence once before and the poor boy had been violently ill, having been terribly unprepared for the sensation. This time Credence fares far better, but is still shaken up from being ripped through space alongside the wizard. Graves deposits Credence on the sofa and goes to putter around the kitchen. Credence, alone on the sofa, continues to fiddle with the scarf, and suddenly is struck with the image of himself, alone in his room, face buried in the scarf, inhaling Mr. Graves’ scent and… no, he chides himself. Even in his mind, he could never desecrate this man’s possessions in such a way. For one thing, and if he were to truly commit such a sin, the punishment would almost definitely come in the form of lashes on his hands such that he’d never be able to repeat his offense. And rightly so. Credence buries his face in the scarf nonetheless. Mr. Graves’ scent is calming, perhaps because the man has only ever been kind and gentle with him.

Graves returns from the kitchen with a cup of something delicious-smelling. “Do you like cocoa?”

“Never had it before, sir. Ma doesn’t allow it,” responds Credence.

“Go on,” Graves encourages. Credence takes a sip, and, overwhelmed by the sweet new flavor and scent, makes a noise that is positively indecent. Graves has to turn around and step out for a moment to collect himself. Meanwhile, Credence allows himself to indulge a bit in the warm drink until Graves returns with a perfect, round orange. “This is what I thought you might enjoy,” he explains.

“An orange? I’ve never had one, only seen them in pictures.”

“Oh, they’re delicious. Do you want to share this with me?”

“Yes, please, Mr. Graves”

“Here, let me show you how to peel it,” Graves offers, and sits down beside Credence.

While Credence holds the orange, Graves digs a finger into the stem end and grabs hold of a bit of rind, pulling it back gently, so as not to break the delicate fruit inside.

“Like this,” he says, allowing Credence to take on the bulk of the peeling once it’s been started.

Graves helps with the stringy white bits that cling to the orange still. “This part won’t hurt you to eat, but it’s bitter,” he explains. He then carefully separates a single section from the rest of the orange and offers it to Credence.

Credence takes it and bites down, sending a rivulet of juice down his chin. Graves reaches forward with bare fingers and wiped the juice from Credence’s face. Credence blushes and apologizes, “I didn’t know it would be messy, Mr. Graves. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

The comment makes Graves slightly uncomfortable, a reminder that this boy can’t be anything but perfect without earning punishment for it, but he lets it go. Credence separates the next section of orange, and offers this one to Graves, who takes it and makes eating it without dripping look like the easiest thing in the world. Credence finds himself fixating on Graves’ lips as they wrap around the orange slice, and he shuts those thoughts down as quickly as he did with the scarf. The next section of orange is held out to Credence and, since the boy has just picked up his cocoa mug again, he simply leans forward and takes a bite as Graves continues to hold it. His lips touch Graves’ fingers. Juices escape, once again, though not as embarrassingly as last time.

Graves suddenly has a problem. He lets out an involuntary groan, and he’s suddenly giving a lot of thought to how to get this boy into his bed, even though he knows better. He freezes, not wanting to make Credence feel bad by excusing himself, but unsure if he’ll be able to proceed while ignoring his present situation.

Credence, for his part, is still struggling with the feelings of attraction and arousal that have plagued him since he arrived here with Mr. Graves’ scarf around his neck, and when Graves freezes, he fears he’s been caught.

“Credence? Are you alright? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” he asks, keeping a safe distance for now. Credence simply pulls a pillow over his lap and looks down, shaking his head and blushing. Subtle, Graves thinks. Now I’ve embarrassed him and made him feel guilty and goodness knows what else.

“It’s nothing you did, Mr. Graves.”

Graves is only slightly reassured at this, but sits back on the sofa nonetheless and relaxes a little, testing his boundaries by putting an arm around Credence.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, mentally kicking himself when Credence visibly tenses, blushing even more thoroughly than before, if that’s possible, before whispering, “It’s sinful.”

Graves considers that this is likely a sore spot for Credence, but decides to risk it and prod carefully.

“Do you think you can tell me what’s sinful? You don’t have to, but I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

“It’s… the Devil has been tempting me with… with unnatural attractions. It’s happened for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

Graves sighs internally, but Credence doesn’t need someone else’s frustration. He needs patience and understanding, and Graves thinks he can provide it.

“Unnatural? What do you mean by that?”

“Man shall not lie with mankind as with womankind; it’s contrary to God’s plan.”

“I don’t know much about your Bible or your God, but I have a hard time with the idea it’s so contrary to the natural order of things, given how many of us exist.”

“U-us? Mr. Graves, what…”

“The very same inclinations, dear boy. And there are plenty of others, too. I should know; I got first-hand experience with plenty of them when I was your age,” he says, smirking.

Credence makes a scandalized face, but he considers this for a moment. Surely a man as kind and good as Mr. Graves couldn’t be under Satan’s influence. He needed to know more.

“C-can you tell me about it? When did it start?”

“Oh, around the same time boys my age started noticing girls… I must’ve been twelve or thirteen. While they were chasing girls, I was finding myself attracted to them… and in one embarrassing instance, to a professor as he told me off in his office after class.”

“And no one ever found out and punished you?”

“I wasn’t in an environment where attraction was punishable. I’m very sorry to hear that you are. There was a boy who found out, when I was about fifteen. That turned out to be a very good thing. For me and him both.”

“Why?” _Oh, Credence_. Graves can’t believe this boy.

“You can probably guess for yourself the circumstances that would make it a good thing.”

Credence blushes. He further considers that if Graves is such a good man and has these feelings, and has acted on them, from the sounds of it, then perhaps he’s missing something. It must not damn people in the way he thought it did.

“How do you make the feelings stop?”

“You know, Credence, I’ve never figured that one out. I’m not sure I want to,” Graves admits, leaning in and gauging Credence’s reaction. Credence, emboldened by the admission, closes the gap between them and meets Graves in a kiss that is at first sloppy and awkward, until Graves takes control, turning it easy and relaxed.

By the time they both come up for air, Credence is flushed to below his collar and his lips are red and swollen. Graves has a moment of panic, thinking he’s made a huge mistake. Credence is inexperienced and has a lot of baggage from his religious upbringing. Anything Graves could do would be taking advantage. Nothing physical will happen tonight, he resolves; he needs time to think about this and Credence needs to be able to ask for what he wants, not guiltily cover his lap with a pillow.

“Mr. Graves…”

“My sweet boy. Did you enjoy that?”

Credence squirms a little, averts his eyes. “It was good,” he admits. “Can we… is there more… two men can do?” he asks bashfully.

“Oh, there are plenty of other things we could do, but perhaps we should wait,” Graves explains.

“But I want everything! Anything you like!”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say, Credence. There are so many things that could be very enjoyable if we both wanted them. But I don’t want to push you to do anything you’re not ready for.”   
“Like what?”   
“Well, what do you like the sound of?”

“I… don’t know. I don’t really even know what things men can do together.”

“Well, it sounds to me like you’re not in a position to agree to much of anything, then.”  
“Can you t-teach me, Mr. Graves?”   
“Well. Not by demonstration, not just yet. I think you should know what you’re getting into before you agree to it. What if I tell you what our options are, and you can see if you like the sound of any of them.”   
“Yes, please, Mr. Graves”

“There we go. You see, it’s not good to agree to absolutely anything with no boundaries, because some people enjoy pain in bed at the hands of a partner, whips and paddles, that sort of thing. Some people enjoy being tied up, some people enjoy being called names. Some people like to be the one doing those things to their partner. Other people don’t like any of those things at all.”

“I don’t think I’d like being hit, but I might be able to try it if you w-wanted…”  
“Oh, darling, that worries me. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I need to trust, before we do anything at all, that you won’t ask for anything you don’t want. I also need to trust that you’ll ask me to stop if you think you want to try something and then change your mind.”   
“I promise, Mr. Graves, I just… can you just help me with…” Credence whines, adjusting himself on the sofa and indicating the pillow on his lap.

“Credence, sweetheart, I won’t do anything sexual with you at all if you won’t even let me see you’re hard.” If it’s possible, Credence blushes even more. “I need you to ask for what you want.”  
“You explained why I need to have boundaries, but can you tell me what we could do? And I can see if I like any of it?”   
“Of course. Have you ever touched yourself?”

“Just the once, when I was about fourteen. It was a mistake, I felt so guilty. And the punishment, it... it wasn’t worth trying again.”

“Oh, Credence, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened to you. You should never be made to feel guilty about giving yourself pleasure. If you wanted, I could touch you sometime, stroke your cock, gentle and slow at first, if you asked me to go faster, or harder, I would. If you wanted me to use my mouth, I would like that very much.”  
“Your m-mouth? But that’s so dirty!”

“Oh, there’s plenty dirtier. It’s kind of fun, having a pretty cock in your mouth, licking and sucking, and watching your partner’s reaction, hearing the noises they make. You could try it on me, too, if you’re curious.”

“Mr. Graves!” Credence says, sitting up straighter and looking utterly scandalized. This was going to be fun.

“I could suck on your pretty cock, if you wanted me to. I’ll bet it’s the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen, and it would feel so perfect in my mouth. If you were comfortable with it, I’d even let you finish in my mouth and swallow it all down. Less mess that way.” Too far, perhaps. Credence is no longer red; he’s suddenly gone pale. But he’s also shifting his hips against the pillow in his lap. Perfect.

“Credence, that can’t be too comfortable, can it?”

“I like the pillow, I just wish my trousers weren’t so tight,” Credence admits.

“I don’t want to ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but if it’s for my sake that you’re hiding like that, you needn’t.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

Credence finally moves that damned pillow off his lap and Graves has to look away a moment to collect himself because that cock is obscene in the threadbare, too-small trousers. Credence, of course, is mortified, and hides his face in the crook of Graves’ neck. Graves can’t bring himself to be concerned with Credence’s obvious embarrassment, because where the kid puts that thing all day is a mystery. No wonder he couldn’t get comfortable and kept squirming.

“Credence, look at you,” Graves says. “If you don’t mind, let’s get rid of your belt, and we can undo your fly, is that alright?”

“Yeah, please, Mr. Graves. Can... can you do it?”

For fuck’s sake. Percival wasn’t prepared for this. Credence’s cock is bigger than his own, and he’s supposed to, what, just not touch it? Mercy Lewis, he thinks, as he reaches over and removes Credence’s belt, setting it aside without bringing too much attention to it, lest Credence have an unwelcome bout of panic. He goes to undo the buttons as Credence clings to him, whimpering, both embarrassed and aroused.

“Look at me,” Grave requests, and Credence finds it impossible to disobey such a commanding voice from someone so kind. He looks Mr. Graves in the eye, blushing furiously as the man asks him, “is that better?”

“Yes, sir.”

“None of that, now. Mr. Graves is fine, Percival would be even better. Now, would you like to sit in my lap while we talk?”

“Yes, Mr. Graves.” Credence scrambles over to sit across Graves’ lap, his back against the arm of the sofa and his legs stretched out along it. Graves lets out a slow breath. G _et it together_ , he tells himself.

“Now where were we?”

“You were telling me about letting me finish in your m-mouth, I think? A-and swallowing,” he concludes in a whisper.

“Ahh, of course. I’d enjoy that very much. You seemed shocked, is that not something you’d heard about before?” Graves asks him.  
“No, never, Mr. Graves. Is it… you’d really swallow what I wake up to find in my nightclothes sometimes?” he asks tentatively, and, feeling bolder, adds, “what’s it like?”

“Well, it’s a little salty, a little bitter, shocking the first time or two, but really it’s not bad at all.” Credence seems marginally more satisfied with this answer. “That’s not all, Credence. I’m happy to use my hand or my mouth, but there’s something else entirely that we haven’t even explored yet. Do you know what it is?”

“Do you mean s-sodomy?”  
Graves still can’t quite believe this boy’s innocence. “Oh, you make it sound so dire. But yes. It’s definitely an option.”   
“All I’ve been told is that it’s sinful. I don’t really know what it involves. H-have you tried it?”

Graves simply nods, before adding “You’re not sure what this thing entails that you’ve been taught your whole life is wrong?”  
“I think Ma supposes if I don’t know what it is, I can’t do it.”   
“Well, I suppose there’s a certain logic to that. Really, it involves things that might bother you. If you thought spilling into my mouth was disgusting, you’re certainly going to find this distasteful but believe me, it’s very pleasurable. It involves… well, it involves rear penetration.”

“You mean… with your… in my…?”  
“Or the other way around, if you like. I’m flexible,” Graves says with a wink, trying to lighten the situation.

“Wouldn’t that hurt?”  
“Well, not with adequate preparation. It could start with a tongue, or a slicked finger.”   
“A TONGUE?” Credence asks, not going as pale as he had earlier, to his credit.

“Yes, if you’ve bathed recently, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I don’t think I could get over knowing where your tongue had been, next time we kissed.”  
“Fair enough. A slicked finger, then. There’s some stuff in the bathroom. Or I could just cast a spell. With some gentle touches, you’ll probably tense up a little at first, especially the first time, but eventually you’ll relax enough to let a finger inside. It will feel strange at first, but it shouldn’t hurt. There’s a spot inside of you I could stroke that feels just incredible.”

“T-there is?”  
“Yes, it’s pretty amazing. With the pleasure of that, and with just some time to adjust to a finger inside you, you’ll relax some more, enough for me to put a second finger in.”

Credence is looking conflicted, clearly wanting to touch himself but feeling too guilty over his arousal to do anything about it. Like he feels like he should be disgusted, but can’t bring himself to feel anything other than want.

“Do you want to touch yourself while I tell you more, Credence?”  
“Y-yes, Mr. Graves!” Credence cries.

“Go ahead.”  
“Will you… will you help me? I’m not sure what to do.”   
“I’m not going to touch you. That’s for later, after you’ve given all this some thought. But feel free to do what feels good, with your trousers on or off. This is something you should explore yourself, so you can tell me what you like when I do it to you.”   
“I… I think I want to keep my clothes on this time. A-alright, I’ll try it,” says Credence, sounding a little lost. He begins tentatively palming himself through his trousers. “Can you tell me more?”

“Oh, my sweet boy. What have I ever done to deserve this? Once you were ready for a second finger, I’d scissor my fingers inside you to stretch you out a bit, I’d keep teasing your sweet spot, and slick you up as much as I could manage.”  
Credence sighs, visibly relaxing, and getting more adventurous with his touches.

“Would you want me to put a third finger inside, Credence? Just to make sure you’re ready?”  
“Y-yeeeeees!”   
“I’d touch your sweet spot again as soon as I had three fingers inside you. How does that sound?”

“Hnnnnng,” is all he gets in response, the boy being busy grinding back into Graves’ lap and palming himself more roughly through his trousers.

“You’re such a good boy. I’d very much like to see how you respond to having my fingers inside you sometime. Do you think you’d be ready for my cock next?”

“Yesssss, Mr. Graves!” Credence cries, too aroused to be ashamed of how wrecked he looks, leaning back against the arm of the sofa.

“I could push in slowly, I want to make sure I don’t hurt you. It might be most comfortable for you if you were on your hands and knees, but if I was on my back and you were above me, I could see your pretty face as you rode me.”

Credence leans up for another kiss at that, now reaching his hand into his trousers to grab hold of his cock and stroke it in earnest. By now, with Credence alternating between grinding into Graves’ lap and thrusting up into his own hand, Graves is uncomfortably hard and worryingly close.

“Credence, I bet you’d feel so good on my cock, all hot and tight. I’d move in and out a little, gently at first, but I’d get more and more rough as you got comfortable,” Graves explains, pausing to let out a moan. “If you’d let me, I’d like to finish inside you. Or I could pull out at the last minute, when it gets to be too much, and come all over your back and thighs. Would you like that?”

In reply, Credence, who seems to be getting over his inhibitions at long last in favor of bringing himself close to the edge, lets out a breathy moan. When Credence’s voice cracks in desperation, Graves grabs the hips in his lap and grinds up into them, finishing in his trousers like a teenager at the mental image of spilling himself inside that beautiful boy. Luckily, he’s not sure Credence notices, occupied as the boy is with his own pleasure. The head of his cock is above his waistband, now, and the boy carefully pushes his foreskin up and down along it once, twice, before painting a long, messy stripe along the length of his torso.

This kid is going to be the death of him.

**Author's Note:**

> come flail with me on [tumblr](http://diamerizein.tumblr.com) about these two losers


End file.
